Dean Winchester is Saved
by SenseandCommon
Summary: Just a short little drabble from Castiel's POV of his experiences between Sam's birth and the message "Dean Winchester is saved". Can be construed as Destiel.


**A/N – Just a short little drabble I wrote today in study hall. Please review, it helps me feel good about my writing!**

Castiel received his mission on May 2, 1983, the day Samuel Winchester was born. He was assigned a seemingly unimportant position on the very extensive list of angels meant to guard and guide the two Winchester boys through life. Castiel was told that this was his most important mission, and some angels even whispered that the archangel Michael believed these boys and their father, the Winchesters, were fated to determine the Apocalypse.

Rumors flew throughout heaven that Lucifer's demons were planning to use John Winchester as the righteous man mentioned the first seal. Castiel volunteered to shadow the family and protect the man as he raised his boys, but other angels were chosen first. Castiel was to wait until he was needed, for God believed it was not yet his time to participate. Not knowing of the human feeling known as disappointment, Castiel merely moved on to other instructions.

But he never forgot the Winchesters.

On July 19, 2006, Castiel received his first real order. John Winchester had sold his soul for his eldest son, Dean, and was now Hell's newest resident. A small group of angels led by Castiel's close friend Uriel was sent after the man in an attempt to prevent the first seal from being broken. In the meantime, another group was assigned to protect the Winchesters. Castiel volunteered.

He was never able to see them, nor did he ever take a human vessel. His grace merely floated from place to place, smiting monsters that may have stood in Sam and Dean's path. Castiel did more thinking than he ever had before in this brief period of time. He had heard of countless parents selling their souls for their children, signing away their lives so that their young boy or girl may live on, or even be resurrected. But with John, it was different. John Winchester had seen what Hell did to souls; he had killed the demons that had managed to scrape and claw their way out of Hell, and yet he had still thrown himself into its depths. What was so special about his son Dean that he must be saved at such a grotesque cost?

He was in the state of Oregon when he received word that Dean Winchester had sold his soul for his brother Sam. It was the first time he felt a true human emotion – anger. Confused and disoriented, Castiel flew to Heaven in a flurry of feathers and fumes. Dean Winchester couldn't have done that, he couldn't have given up what his father had tried so hard to protect. Clearly, Dean was worth more than the average soul, so how could he have gambled it away so brashly?

Samuel Winchester was his answer.

There was something dark about that boy. Castiel never received word about what exactly the younger Winchester was capable of, but every bit of his grace knew there was something inhuman. He was capable of destroying the most valuable soul to ever walk this earth.

The worst day arrived as Dean Winchester died. John had yet to torture a single soul in Hell, so every angel in every garrison knew Dean's fate. All of the violence and cruelty that the demon Alistair had spent on months of bludgeoning the father would be aimed at the son. John was a lost cause, so the demons would move on to Dean. There would be no mercy.

Castiel was called by the archangel Michael himself. He was to lead another special group of angels into Hell, much like the one that Uriel had led. In fact, Uriel was to be his second in command. A trip like this had only ever been attempted by Uriel's former garrison, but they had never been able to get deep enough. Michael stressed that they had never attempted to retrieve someone so important to the demons, nor had the demons ever acquired someone so important to Heaven. Michael said that he and God both had faith that Castiel could retrieve Dean. It was a great honor.

It took months. Every second Castiel spent smiting and clawing his way deeper and deeper into Hell was spent thinking about Dean. Dean was being tortured; the new righteous man was being forced to torture less-than-innocent souls. Castiel needed to save him, and he needed to save him quickly.

Thirteen angels were sent into Hell, and ten of them perished before the garrison was able to reach Alistair's lair. The demons overwhelmed them, and had they been angels of weak faith they most likely would have assumed it a suicide mission. But not Castiel, for Castiel knew that Michael and God meant for him to succeed.

The doors to Alistair's lair were a deep blue color, darker than anything that existed on God's earth. Castiel approached the door with his two remaining cohorts, Uriel and Elemiah, not knowing what was waiting on the other side. All Castiel knew was that this room, or even this realm, held Dean Winchester.

He dove deep into the power that his grace possessed and tore open the heavy, frozen doors. They clattered against the rock and brimstone walls, echoing for every demon in all of Hell to hear. The angels had found him; the angels had finally located Dean Winchester.

Castiel saw him before he even had a chance to process the intensifying situation. A body was laying on the cold floor, demolished and tired. He had no chains or hooks or physical bindings of any kind, his torture had progressed to a much more terrible sort. Blood covered his naked arms and legs, but it was not his own. This man had not been allowed to bleed his own blood in Hell for what seemed like a millennia.

Suddenly, for the first time in Castiel's existence, he felt time. In the past, he and the other angels had judged time by eras and monumental events, barely feeling as millions of years flit past them. However, as Castiel's angelic eyes grazed Dean for the very first time, Castiel could feel every millisecond. In those few short instances, he lived longer than he had ever believed was possible.

Dean stirred at their entry, curling into himself like a scared child. Castiel felt himself lean towards the man, but he knew better than to rush towards his target. It would never be that simple, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

No matter how much he wanted to save Dean Winchester.

"Alistair?" Dean mumbled as a fire ignited within Castiel's grace. Dean's voice was a broken plea, barely audible amongst the screams and howls of Hell. Another first passed as Castiel reached another basic understanding – this was what his brothers and sisters meant when they spoke of music.

He also felt a surge of something different, something darker. Alistair was the demon who had driven Dean to this new level of pain. He had corrupted a beautiful, righteous man. He would pay; he would die.

Castiel wanted to kill him.

"Don't worry, boy," Uriel spoke to Dean as Castiel became accustomed to the nearly overwhelming motions. "We – the hand of heaven – are here to save you."

Uriel did not move, but his other friend, Elemiah, inched forward. In mere seconds, hoards of Alastair's demons were spilled from all directions, their suffocated, tortured, ugly souls poisoning the already toxic air. Castiel instantly leapt to shield Dean, his grace burning at the touch of demonic flesh as he moved across Alistair's room. In a moment, he had wrapped his being around Dean's arm, his grace burning into the incredibly human skin.

"I have Dean Winchester!" Castiel's voice shook throughout the small space, shocking most of the demons. They had never heard an angel speak, and neither had Dean. His body locked, as if preparing for some sort of assault. Castiel shuttered at the sight, but went on.

"We need to get out!"

The three angles and the one man sped from the room at the speed of light. Elemiah caressed Dean with her grace, quieting him and momentarily ending his unbearable pain. "He should never feel torture like this again, Castiel," she said, sensing his weakness – his emotion.

They escaped from Hell. Elemiah reported back to Heaven; Uriel returned to his post on Earth. Castiel stayed between realms to remake Dean Winchester. The man's soul was intact, bruised and beaten, but whole. He would live on. He would live on with short sandy hair, 156 freckles, and brilliant green eyes – which just so happened to be the exact shade of Castiel's favorite human color. Nevertheless, Castiel chose to remake Dean without his collection of scars, for Dean now had countless more on his spirit.

Nothing, however, could be done about the burn Castiel had left where he had gripped the man with his grace and raised him from perdition. It was shaped like a human hand, which was strange to Castiel. He was neither human, nor had he gripped Dean with a hand. For whatever reason, God had chosen for Castiel's mark to be that of human origins. The angel tried with all of his might not to question it.

Once he was done, Castiel returned with Dean to the Earth's surface. The two beings fell where Sam had buried Dean, whipping out the forest that had once stood there. Castiel frowned, he had momentarily forgotten how monstrously large his body was in proportion to the earth.

Placing Dean back into his grave, Castiel stood tall.

"Dean Winchester is saved," he boomed, making sure that every angel, holy and fallen, could hear.


End file.
